
FT MEfiDE 
GenCol1 


XLbc Song 

of 

IRortban 


y . ' » ' • V 





•1> ,> 


, 


'S'yA. 



a\ • ■* ’- 

■f- 'r 

>lr'r L 




■ A "’••• 





;" J-y. 



Bie 

f tancid B. Uaiglor 
















Book- Tz\AA 
GopightM?_ S-Q. 


COFtRIGHT DEPOSIT. 








THE SONG OF KORTHAN 



The Song of 
Korthan 


By 

FRJNCES BEJTRICE TAYLOR 


C\ 


I 



Ne<TX} York 


Chicago 


Fleining H. Reve/l Company 


London 


and Edinburgh 














Copyright, 1923, by Ta’S 
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 9,1 Vl" 



OCT 13 1923 


New York: 158 Fifth Avenue 
Chicago: 17 North Wabash Ave, 
London: 21 Paternoster Square 
Edinburgh: 75 Princes Street 





©C1A759377 


- ’T 





THE SONG OF KORTHAN 


HE birthday of the Child was 
passed by many days when 
Korthan, the Minstrel, came to 
Bethlehem. 

Thou art late, Minstrel,’^ the keeper of 
the khan told him, standing in the low 
doorway to survey his guest with good- 
humoured tolerance. Like all men who 
knew him, he loved Korthan, and like all 
men, deemed him mad. 

Yet he was a fine figure enough, there in 
the narrow, flagged street, tall, and for all 
his sixty years as straight as a lad. The 
madness of Korthan, if madness it might be, 
was of a nobler sort than most. 

He answered quietly, though one watch¬ 
ing closely might have seen the clear line of 
his lips quiver a little, as a child’s may, hurt 
with a bitter disappointment. 

[ 5 ] 








THE SONG OF KORTHAN 


“ Aye, I am come too late, Uzzar,” he 
said, “ these three weeks have I lain sick of 
a fever in the house of one, Levi, a six-hour 
journey beyond Jerusalem, but as soon as 
the fever left me I came hither to seek thy 
guests.” 

“ And passed them in Jerusalem itself, if 
the story goes true,” Uzzar answered. 
“ The village folk have it that the Child 
hath been taken to the temple there, and 
that suddenly, in the night, the three, father 
and mother and child, disappeared, none 
knew whither.” 

‘‘ But thou knowest,” Korthan said 
eagerly, “thou didst follow them?” 

“ I ? I have my task here in the inn 
and have been near to distraction with 
the fret and hurry of it—what time had 
I to seek after some poor Galilean, whose 
name even I have forgotten? The maid I 
mind, for she was but a maid in years, 
and she had a sweet sorrow in her face 
—for that I would have found them bet¬ 
ter housing if I could, but what would 

[ 6 ] 




THE SONG OP NORTH AN 


you ? These be vigilant times, Minstrel, 
and there were finer folk than they to house 
for the taxing.” 

But that night—thou sawest the Child 
and the Star—thou heardest the singing of 
the angels, Uzzar? ” 

The innkeeper shook his head impatiently. 

“ I tell thee I saw them not. I heard 
nothing,” he said, my ears were well filled 
with the scoldings of this guest and that—I 
paid no heed to these strangers in my cat¬ 
tle shed.” 

Korthan, the Minstrel, gave a great 
sigh. On a sudden years seemed added 
tO' his age, his broad shoulders bowed 
beneath the burden of the harp slung 
across them. As he turned slowly from 
the door of the khan, Uzzar’s heart smote 
him. 

Stay, Korthan, and rest,” he said, “ the 
guests are gone, and there is room, and to 
spare for thee—thou art not yet well of thy 
fever.” 

Nay, then, I thank thee, innkeeper, but 

[ 7 ] 





THE SONG OF NORTH AN 


I have somewhat to seek and the finding of it 
is not here/' 

What, art still searching for thy King? 
Man, it is not well to talk of kings, save 
one." 

But this was a King, the King of my 
long quest," Korthan cried. “ I saw with 
these eyes the light of the Star go sweeping 
across the heavens, in the semblance of a 
crown; I myself heard the choir of angels 
singing towards this place^—think you they 
sang for less than a king? " 

A holy Child, may be, but a king, no," 
Uzzar said, and looked about him hurriedly 
and a little anxious. Caesar is king, and 
after him Herod, and none other. It is 
well for thee to be silent with thy kings, 
Minstrel." 

But Korthan went from the door with 
dragging feet. 

In the courtyard a woman met him, 
Naomi, the innkeeper’s wife. She looked at 
him curiously. 

'' Thou art come late to find our guests, 

[ 8 ] 





THE SONG OE KORTHAN 


Minstrel,’’ she said, and Korthan nodded 
his head slowly, then, moved by a sudden 
thought, paused. 

“ Didst thou see the little King, Naomi ? ” 
he asked eagerly. 

The woman came a step nearer to him. 

'' Dost thou mean the Babe, Korthan ? ” 
she queried, then, indeed, I saw Him and 
held Him in these arms, but Uzzar, my lord, 
bids me say naught. It is not good to 
speak freely of kings, where even the walls 
have ears. Hast thou heard of the decree 
of Herod? ” 

‘‘ I have heard nothing,” Korthan said. 
‘‘ These three weeks have I lain ill in Levi’s 
house and I liave seen and heard naught that 
I took heed to since that night of the Star 
and the Angels.” 

** It was a miracle,” Naomi said sadly, 
but it has brought only sorrow upon the 
land. I myself saw not the Star, only a fair 
light, for I was busy with my serving and 
came not to door or casement, but some of 
the village folk have strange tales to tell, 

[ 9 ] 




THE SONG OE NORTH AN 


how this one and that was wakened by the 
singing as of heavenly voices, and saw above 
the inn a light so great that never it fell 
from any star. The singing passed, they 
say, but a mighty Star shone all night long 
above the khan and only died away at 
dawn; and I, when in the early day I went 
forth myself, to see that of which the maids 
talked so wildly, I saw shepherds, rough 
folk from the hills yonder, leaving the door 
of the khan. ‘ How found ye your way 
hither ? ’ I asked them, and they answered 
me: ‘We have seen His star and have come 
and worshipped. He is the Messiah.’ And 
they told me, how, watching their flocks 
over against the city, they heard the sound 
of singing, and were sore afraid of the hosts 
of light that seemed suddenly to fall above 
them, from the very gates of heaven, and 
how an angel spoke with them and told them 
of the Babe that would be born here, in our 
khan, and that he should be the Messiah, 
and should redeem Israel.” 

“ King of Israel.” There was a faint note 

[ 10 ] 




THE SONG OF NORTH AN 


of scorn in Korthan’s voice. “ Thine own 
books of the law tell what thy kings have 
been. Nay, He is more than that; five and 
forty years have I sought a king who should 
be greater than these, greater even than 
Caesar. His slave should I be. His vassal. 
His minstrel only, and that King is born.” 

Oh, I know not,” Naomi said in a dis¬ 
tressed voice, would God He were a king 
indeed, and might rid us of our bondage, 
but I am fearful; the land will lie waste 
before the sword of Herod, who hath heard 
of the coming of the Messiah, and hath de^ 
creed that all the little babes shall die, he will 
have no King usurping his throne. For, 
after the shepherds came strangers, men of 
many tongues from some land that I know 
not. Out of the East they came, and 
brought rich gifts to the Babe, a golden 
crown, one, and sweet-smelling spices, and 
incense that burned about His head, as in the 
very sanctuary of the Temple. They called 
Him King, but they are not Israelite—^truly 
I know not, but because of Him there is fear 

[ 11 ] 





THE SONG OF NORTH AN 


in all the land, and I thank God that I and 
my lord are childless.” 

“ And these Eastern travelers, whither 
went they ? ” Korthan asked. 

“ Out in the dawn by a road whence they 
came not,” Naomi answered. ‘‘ I sat by the 
mother and the Babe, and gave them little 
heed, for in my arms I held the Child— 
indeed, never was a baby like Him, His eyes 
were as corn flowers at reaping time and 
even in His sleep He smiled. The children 
came in hundreds to bring Him their little 
gifts.” 

‘‘ But whither have they gone, the father 
and the mother and the Babe?” Korthan 
asked impatiently—every moment saw them 
farther on their journey, while he listened 
to the garrulity of the innkeeper’s wife. 

“ Nay, that I do not know. At dawn one 
morning I went out to see how they fared. 
Some of the guests were gone, and I be¬ 
sought Uzzar that he would bring them to 
the inn itself, but he feared this talk of 
kings might anger the Governor, and said 

[ 12 ] 




THB SONG OP NORTH AN 


me nay. So in the dawn I went to visit 
them and they were gone. The man had 
left us payment for the poor place we had 
given them, but no word of whither they 
went.” 

“ But their names—^thou must have 
learned their names, and the town whence 
they came? ” 

Again Naomi shook her head. 

“ I asked them not,” she said. The 
mother’s name was Mary, but a maid she 
was, with eyes that were blue like the 
Babe’s, and wide, with a sort of wonder, 
only very sad, while His were merry. I 
think they were heavenly folk and came not 
from any earthly place, and for aught I 
know, they have returned thither—but He 
will come back, that I do know. There 
came a merchant through Jaffa gate, who 
said that he heard of such as they in the 
Temple at Jerusalem—but I think he spoke 
untruly, for it is the Messiah.” 

Nay, sister—one so fair born for thy 
people only? He is no Israelite, of that I 

[ 15 ] 




THE SONG OP NORTH AN 


am sure, and until I have found Him I shall 
take no rest by day or night.” 

Thou hast sought thy King so many 
years, thou hast taken but little rest at any 
time, Korthan,” the woman answered; “ but 
this Child I fear me thou shalt never find— 
if He be indeed the promised one, that shall 
He be in secret until the time of revealing 
is come, and if He be not, then hath He 
already perished by Herod’s sword.” 

He hath not perished, and I shall find 
Him,” Korthan said, and he went out 
through the gateway intO' the narrow street. 

Out on the rough cobbles, between the 
flat-fronted white houses, the Bethlehem 
children were at play in the pale sunlight, 
waiting the coming of the beloved Minstrel, 
and heedless of the sword that would so 
soon sweep across the blossoming fields of 
Palestine, casting the frailest blooms adrift 
upon the wind. 

“ Korthan, Korthan,” cried the children, 
sing to us, sing to us.” 

So Korthan stayed his eager feet and in 

[ 14 ] 




THE SONG OP KORTHAN 


the little market place gathered the wee folk 
about him, but he did not sing. 

'' Didst thou see the Babe, Korthan ? ” 
they asked him and scarce waiting his reply 
there rose a merry babel of sound from this 
shrill little voice, and that. 

I saw him—and I—and I—I kissed His 
little feet, Korthan, pink they were like 
fallen rose-petals—and I, and I—” 

“ I gave Him my baby lamb,” Asa, the 
shepherd’s son, said proudly. “ I think, 
when He is a man. He will be a shepherd, 
like my father, and I, so wisely did He fold 
my lamb in His tiny arms.” 

Then again the eager chorus: “ Sing to 
us, sing to us.” 

So Korthan unstrapped the harp that lay 
across his shoulders, and laid his singing 
liands Upon it, and waited. 

What shall I sing, little children?” he 
asked. 

Sing us the Song of the Star, Minstrel,” 
they cried, but Korthan shook his head and 
his hands lay still along the silver strings. 

[ 15 ] 




THE SONG OP NORTH AN 


\ 


“ That song I cannot sing you,” he said, 
for forty and five years I have sought 
that song, and now it has come to me, 
learned of the star, but I shall not sing it 
to a living soul until I sing it to the King 
himself; but now will I sing you the song 
of my Quest, instead.” 

“ The Quest, the Quest,” shouted the 
children, sing us the song of the Quest.” 


[ 16 ] 





HEN Korthan, the Minstrel, took 
his harp and sang to the Bethle¬ 
hem children the song of his pil¬ 
grimage, how he had forsaken 
his home and his rich heritage, and his 
father’s house, for the quest of a dream, a 
dream of a King who should rule, not Israel 
alone, but all the universe; one mightier, 
and holier, and kinglier than all that should 
come after. “ Solomon was such,” the Is¬ 
raelites told him, but it was not a Solo¬ 
mon he sought. “ Solomon is dead,” said 
Korthan, the Minstrel. ‘‘ My King shall 
not die.” Then it is the Messiah,” they 
said, but it was not the Messiah. “ The 
Messiah shall be of the people of Israel, of 
the lineage of David,” said Korthan, the 
Minstrel, ‘‘ I am not a Jew.” And in the 
other lands whither he journeyed, the warm 
sunny lands of the south, the high, white 
lands to the north, the wind-swept country 
by the sea, men loved him, and called him 

[17] 




THE SONG OF NORTH AN 


mad. IntO' Rome he went, to the court of 
Caesar, sang to them, played to them, made 
rich-coloured song for their feasts, and 
rendered unto Caesar his due, but found 
not the King. Into the north he went, to 
the great halls of the Vikings, played to 
them, sang to them, made mighty battle^ 
songs, and did obeisance to their lords, and 
found not the King. Into the white-pillared 
groves of Athens he went, into the court¬ 
yards of the fountains, made song and 
music for their games, light singing for 
their dances, bowed at the fair feet of their 
maidens, but found not the King. ‘‘ Now 
shall I go forth again,” sang Korthan, the 
Minstrel, and none shall stay my feet until 
I find Him, for on the night of nights the 
King was born, and here in my heart lies the 
Song of His Star, learned on the hills at 
nightfall, a song I shall not sing until I find 
Him,” sang Korthan, the Minstrel. 

Wondering, the children listened. Very 
old and dear to them was the Song of 
Korthan’s Quest, but never had he sung as 

[ 18 ] 




THE SONG OE KORTHAN 


now, and never had lain so kind a smile on 
the face they loved. 

‘‘ What sang the angels, Korthan? ” asked 
Asa, the shepherd’s son, and leaned against 
the Minstrel’s knee, lifting wide eyes to his 
face. 

“ Why, as to that, little one,” he answered, 
** there is no like in all the world to that 
song that ever I have heard. What says 
thy father, the shepherd, he was of those 
who hearkened? ” 

‘‘ It was at nightfall,” the child said 
gravely, and he scarce can tell save that 
all the sky seemed suddenly as at early 
dawn, and then there was a stir of mighty 
wings, and the angels were there, bidding 
them fear not, but journey hither, where the 
little Babe lay, and my father came and the 
others, not knowing why, and fearful. Wert 
thou also afraid, dear Minstrel ? ” 

‘M, afraid of singing? Nay, little Asa. 
Rather I laughed to hear so fair a melody 
and would have followed it right gladly, 
but that the fever was upon me. Aye, I 

[ 19 ] 




THE SONG OF KORTHAN 


heard them singing, I saw the angels, 
though, indeed, I think I have seen them 
before this time, at dusk by the sea, and at 
early morning on the hills, when no man 
save I was astir. Straight across the sky 
they flew, so near it seemed the lifted hand 
might brush the flying folds of their white 
robes, so fair, that their faces were as the 
dawn itself for splendour. From south to 
north, their wide wings swept the sky, now 
pale as the foam on a summer sea, now rose- 
tinted as the snows on Lebanon’s brow, now 
warm gold, from the glory of the star that 
shone above them, but I heard not their 
song, for ever the star sang also; and I 
minded the words of that sweet singer of 
Israel, how the morning stars sang together, 
and thus I know that at last my King had 
come into the world.” 

“ Korthan, dear Korthan, whither wilt 
thou go?” cried the children. ‘‘Thou art 
weary with much seeking; stay with us 
a little.” 

But Korthan laid his hand on the fair 

[ 20 ] 




THE SONG OF KORTHAN 


head of Asa, the shepherd’s son, and bade 
them be at peace. “If I find Him not 
before that night comes round again,” he 
said, “ then shall I return to seek Him here.” 

And so went upon his way. 


[ 21 ]! 



r T'" . 





> f. A 









OR a score of years went 
Korthan, the Minstrel, from end 
to end of the land, and made 
songs for the marriages and the 
burials, songs for the harvest and the seed¬ 
time, songs for rich and poor alike, for those 
who mourned and those who feasted, for the 
merchant in the crowded bazaar, for the 
fisher by the lonely sea, for twenty long 
years, and found not the King. 

Each birthnight he returned, watching 
the night through by the little Bethlehem 
khan. Uzzar was dead, and Naomi, his 
wife, with her own people in another part 
of the country; the children had grown to 
manhood, and Asa kept his father’s sheep on 
the low Judaean hills, and by many the Min¬ 
strel was forgotten. New friends are for 
i the young, and Korthan’s step was slow, and 
his voice less merry, and his fingers 
j heavier on the harp, so that at the feasts 

j [ 22 ] 









THE SONG OF KORTHAN 


another took his place, and he had not found 
the King. 

Till there came a birthnight when he was 
far from the little Bethlehem town, with age 
and weariness upon him. 

I am old,” said Korthan, the Minstrel, 

and I have failed. I shall never find the 
King, and when I am gone the song of the 
star will be forgot and men shall say it was 
a dream.” 

Nightfall found him on the outskirts of 
the white-walled town of Nazareth, in a 
part of the land where he was all but a 
stranger and there was no house where he 
might find a friend. “ I must beg bread 
and shelter this night,” he said, and in the 
morning I shall die.” 

Thus he came to the house of one Joseph, 
a carpenter. Under the eastern wall of the 
house stood the carpenter’s shop, a low, flat- 
roofed building, the one window faced to 
the east. In the doorway Korthan stood 
still, a great weariness upon him, but ere he 
might speak the word that asked for food 

[ 23 ] 




THE SONG OE KORTHAN 


and shelter, the word that in four score and 
five years he had never spoken, there turned 
to him from the lathe beneath the window 
the carpenter’s Son. 

“ Joseph is from home,” he said. 

But when he saw how spent and weary 
was his. guest, he came to him swiftly and 
drew him within the shop, and led him to 
the low couch along the farther wall and 
brought him wine from the house, and little 
wheaten cakes. 

Then, having comforted him, he went 
back to the slow turning of his lathe under 
the window. 

Korthan, the Minstrel, lay still. Out of 
the pale twilight, that gathered in the low 
room, moved the young hands of the car¬ 
penter’s son, slender and strong, and ruddy 
with the wind and sun. He was but a lad, 
tall and straight and fair. Under the quiet 
brow, his eyes were blue as the flower of 
the com, deep and still as the harbour water 
of a summer sea, and as he toiled, he sang 
to himself, very softly. 

[ 24 ] 




THE SONG OP KORTHAN 


What dost thou fashion, carpenter ? ” 
Korthan asked him. Men who laboured, he 
knew, and men who sang, but men who sang 
and laboured—no! 

‘‘ Why, now this, now that,” he an¬ 
swered. “ To-day, because it is the eve 
of my birthday, I have made gifts for 
the children, flying creatures, and little 
beasts.” 

“And what says thy father, the car¬ 
penter? Is he content that thou shouldst 
idle thy time in making playthings for the 
children? ” 

The carpenter^s Son laughed, and his 
laughter was like a morning wind that blows 
free over blossoming fields. 

“ Nay, my Father hath no greater pleas¬ 
ure than to fashion playthings for His chil¬ 
dren,” he answered. “ His sorrow is that 
they, who are so careful and troubled over 
many things, have forgot to play.” 

There fell a silence in the little shop. 
Behind the boy's head a single star hung in 
the cool green of the evening sky. His face 

[ 25 ] 




THE SONG OP KORTHAN 


lay in the shadow, but through the dusk his 
hands moved softly. Korthan lay content. 

Sing to me, Minstrel,” the carpenter’s 
son said after a little, but Korthan looked 
at him sadly. 

I am old for singing,” he said, ‘‘ and all 
my songs are forgot save one, and that one 
I may not sing.” 

song of labour? Couldst thou not 
sing me a song of labour? “ But Korthan 
shook his head. 

I have journeyed these many years,” he 
said slowly, “ and I have never laboured. Of 
this wine and that have I drunk, sat at one 
man’s board and another, feasted with them 
and mourned, but I have done no labour in 
all my life. I have finished no one task, and 
now my life itself is finished, and my songs, 
all that was mine on earth, are forgotten.” 

The carpenter’s son smiled at him. 

‘‘ Grieve not for that, good Minstrel,” he 
said gently, “there be toilers, and there be 
singers, and when thou are come to my 
Father’s house, thou wilt have songs enough, 

[ 26 ] 




THE SONG OP KORTHAN 


and none shall be forgotten. Now rest, 
thou, and I will sing to thee.” 

Swiftly he set the wheel aside, and gath¬ 
ered from floor and carving bench the nar¬ 
row, curled shavings of fragrant wood. 
From his hands the slender streamers fell 
like ribbons of silver in the starlight. On 
the window ledge above his head the little 
creatures he had made stood in orderly 
array, a sandalwood bird with lifted wings, 
a lamb. Korthan gave him the harp, though 
in his life no hand save his had touched the 
silver strings, and in the cool dusk the car¬ 
penter’s son sang to him, standing against 
the narrow frame of the window, against 
the quiet evening sky, against the star that 
lifted and glowed behind his head as a halo 
might. Very tender, the strong, young 
fingers swept the jaded strings, and the 
sweet young voice rose in the song of 
labour that the carpenter’s son sang to 
Korthan, the Minstrel. 

“ My hand hath lost it’s cunning,” the 
Minstrel said gravely. Thou singest well, 

[ 27 ] 





THE SONG OP NORTH AN 


young carpenter, but I call not thy song a 
song of labour.” 

“ There is but one song,” the boy an¬ 
swered, the Song of Love, and Laughter, 
and Labour—lacking one there can be no 
music in the singing.” 

There is another song,” Korthan cried, 
and would have sat upright but that the 
other stayed him with lifted hand. 

Listen, friend,” he said, and Korthan 
lay still. 

Through the song there sounded the slow, 
steady surge of the sea, through the song a 
golden thread ran, surely, unchanging, un¬ 
wavering and over it, and above, leaped 
and pulsed a rainbow tapestry of sound, 
laughter, the far calling of bird-voices, the 
shouting of children, and under these the 
golden woof of sound. 

Husbandmen,” said Korthan, the Min¬ 
strel, ‘'fishers by the sea, toilers in the 
market place. I knew not that men sang at 
their labour; it is a new song.” 

“ Then shall I sing you the song of 

[ 28 ] 




THE SONG OP KORTHAN 


songs/' cried the carpenter’s Son, the song 
of the Three Gifts—Love, that is myrrh 
for the healing of the soul; Gold, which is 
the sum of man’s labour for the King; 
Laughter, the incense from earthly altars. 
Hark you, Minstrel.” 

But, listening, Korthan knew. 

‘‘ It is the Song of the Star,” he said, and 
wept, and laughed, and wept again, and was 
of a sudden in great peace. 

“My King, my King!” cried Korthan, 
the Minstrel, and would have taken again 
his harp, but that the will was gone from 
his fingers, and into his eyes was come the 
dimness of far spaces. 

“ A lifetime have I sought Thee,” he 
whispered, “ and now I have found Thee, 
and I cannot sing Thee Thy song.” 

Then the carpenter’s Son came to him and 
laid his young hands on his head and bade 
him be at rest. 

“All thy life thou hast sung to me, 
brother,” he said, “ and all thy songs have 
pleasured me. No song of the forest and 

[ 29 ] 




THE SONG OP KORTHAN 


the wind and the sea, no cry of praise at 
morning and evening, no sleep song for the 
little children, that I have not heard, I and 
My Father. Thou hast bound thy life with 
laughter, and made pleasant the paths of 
thy feet, so shalt thou have less to learn in 
My Father’s house. There be many man¬ 
sions, Korthan, but for the faint-hearted, 
and the weeping, the House of Joy is very 
far to go, yet thou shalt keep my birthday 
feast.” 

Now through the little room the star¬ 
light flowed, a silver tide; out on the hills 
a shepherd called to his flock; a child’s voice 
sounded in the village street. Softly the 
carpenter’s son laid on the silent strings the 
quiet fingers of Korthan, the Minstrel, but 
Korthan was away, crying the Song of the 
Star at the city gates. 


Printed in United States of America. 


[ 30 ] 




WORK AMONG YOUNG FOLKS 


JEANNE M. SERRELL 

Former Chairman Presbyterian "Woman's Board, 
Children's Department 

Tales of Great Missionaries 

For Young People. Frontispiece. $1.25. 

Records of deeds of courage and devotion done on the 
mission fields of the world. Instinct with the spirit of 
the Great Commission, they retell, in a delightful and 
refreshing way, the stories of the great missionaries— 
Carey, Judson, Paton, Livingstone, Hudson Taylor, Mary 
Slessor, Coillard, and others. 

STUART NYE HUTCHISON, D.D. 

Bible Boys and Girls 

“Five-Minute Talks” $1.25. 

Dr. Hutchison's "stories” are so well-known and their 
standard so high that it is unnecessary to say more than 
"here is another volume of Dr. Hutchison’s 'Talks’ on the 
interesting topic The Boys and Girls mentioned in the 
Bible.” 

E, A. HENRY, D.D, introductory "by Ralph Connor. 

Little Foxes 

“Five-Minute Talks” to Boys and Girls. $1.25. 

Here is a rich volume of talks to boys and girls. 
They were delivered by the author as Sunday morning 
talks, but they will be found equally suitable for all 
occasions in which ministers and superintendents desire 
to address the young folks. 

ROBERT C. FALCONER 

A Child’s Ramble Through the Bible 

The Old Testament. $1.25. 

Choosing with rare discrimination such scenes in Holy 
Writ which, by reason of their rich imaginative quality, 
are best calculated to appeal to the juvenile mind, Mr. 
Falconer guides his young readers through a most delight¬ 
ful country. He has an indubitable eye for "color,” and 
a rare ability to utilize it to spiritual profit. 

AMY LEFEUVRE Author of "Probable Sons.** 

The Most Wonderful Story 

A Life of Christ for Little Children. $1.50* 

The story of the life of Christ told by the famous author 
of children’s stories in a way that will appeal to the "little 
tots.” Although written in the author’s familiar story 
form, emphasis is given to the words of Christ and The 
Parables. 










YOUNG FOLKS’ GAMES, STORIES, ETC 


MARY STEfVART Author of “Tell Me a True Story.** 

The Land of Punch and Judy 

A Book of Puppet Plays for Children. 
Illustrations by Mary B. Chisolm. $1.25. 

A distinct novelty is this book of children-plays, to be 
presented after the manner of the Punch-and-Judy show. 
Accompanying the text of the plays are a number of 
directions by the aid of which one may not merely act, 
but (for the time being, of course) he the characters met 
in these excursions into the Land of Make-Believe. 

DILLON WALLACE 

The Story of Grenfell of the Labrador 

A Boy’s Life of Wilfred T. Grenfell. 
Illustrated. $1.50. 

Having himself braved the hardships and perils of the 
Labrador country, and knowing well how to reach his boy- 
audience, Dillon Wallace has produced a story of the 
great Labrador Missionary and Benefactor, which should 
quickly take a front place among Wallace’s popular stories, 

CHILDREN'S MISSIONARY SERIES 

Children of Jerusalem By c. B. How 
Children of Korea By Ellasue Wagner 
Illustrated in Colors. Each ^ 75c. 

Two new volumes in this delightful series of Chil¬ 
dren’s Travel Books intimately describing the young 
folks of modern Jerusalem and Korea. 

CORA BANKS PIERCE an d HAZEL NORTHROP 

Stories from Foreign Lands 

$1.25. 

A new sheaf of stories by the authors of “Stories From 
Far Away.” Children of Turkey, Persia, Armenia, Africa 
and “the isles of the sea’’ are portrayed with skilful hand, 
and given a wealth of interesting and yet nowise im¬ 
probable adventure. 

KITTY PARSONS 

Do You Know Them ? 

Brief Stories of Famous Lives. $1.25. 

A volume of brief biographies of some famous men and 
women, written expressly for boys and girls, who have 
outgrown mere toy and picture books. Among them are 
Roosevelt, Jenny Lind, Julia Ward Howe, John Paul 
Jones, Florence Nightingale, David Livingstone, etc., etc. 





























































